Today is Fathers' Day. My kids and wife disappeared this morning and then reappeared with candy, assorted nuts, and some very nice cards. I was very pleased. My wife also told me to pick up the $4 Audible version of Tarzan of the Apes, (my choice) so you can probably tell what my next book review will be. After church we had a chance to meet with my family and visit with my grandparents and relatives from Santa Rosa who we haven't seen in a while. Dinner was steak, potatoes, biscuits, and juan canary melon. I wrapped it up with toasted marshmallows between two chocolate-chip cookies. I would have taken a picture of that beautiful culinary masterpiece but I was too busy eating it. All in all a very good day.
I thought I would take some time to talk about my father. Anybody who has met me can say that they have met at least a portion of my father. We really are very similar. I often find myself standing, talking, laughing, explaining, etc. just like him. Once when speaking to my grandparents I commented how all of the men in our family are similar. "We talk the same, we walk the same..." "and you all make the same stupid comments," my grandmother interjected. It is very true. we are very similar.
My father is a man of service, teaching, and love. He has been active in church and community services projects, ranging from working with youth programs to helping build a community playground. He's been involved in the Boy Scouts of America for as long as I can remember which is over half his life. Much like his father he loves to teach, even if his degree was in business (the only member of the family not to have a degree in education). He once told me that when he retires from public finance (his profession for the last 20 years) he would enjoy teaching economics or business at a local college. He's taught numerous church classes for youth and adults as well as scout trainings. He taught all of his children many lessons including how to get along, how to tie knots, camp, survive in the wild, first aid, business and finances, and all kinds of other life skills.
He is also a man of great love. Our friends were always welcome, even the one that he really, really didn't like (but that was my fault). He has even adopted many of them. My sisters' roommates were particular targets. One even ended up marrying into the family. (We love you Bluey!) He was never afraid to show his emotions and we have always known of his love for us. To this day, there are few things as comforting as my father kissing my forehead.
My father is also a sly dog. He acknowledges that there are two sayings he lives by (in addition to his many standards and values). One is, "If you're going through hell, keep going." While I was in Russia on a religious service mission he was diagnosed with cancer. He underwent treatment and was declared cancer free. Three years later, the year my wife and I got married, it returned and he underwent radiation treatments. He is again cancer free, but it has been hard on his body. He is still very fit, but some things just won't be the same. The other saying he likes is, "Old age and treachery will always overcome youth and horsepower." He is very good at this one too. The month before he underwent his treatments he and I went on a three day backpacking trip with friends. Our ages were 18, 23, 25, 30 and my father at 51. We were between Escalate and Boulder Utah on what is called the Boulder Mail trail. A portion of the trail drops into an area known as Box Hollow.
The trail descended about 900 feet from the rim to the canyon floor. We camped the 2nd night down in the canyon. The next morning we climbed out of the hollow, back up that 900 feet, the trail pretty steep with rocky footing. As we stammered out of the canyon back on the flats of the rim we were all blowing hard and ready for a rest..... except Dad. "You guys ready to go or not?" he calming asked, no hint of fatigue or strain in his voice. He stood there calm and cool and just looked at us like were a bunch of 12 year-old scouts (all of us had been his scouts at one time or another). We found out later that for about two months prior to our trip Dad had been taking regular walks around his neighborhood with a 20 lb. pack of canned food. My parents live on the side of a mountain with enough of an incline to scare most drivers with a manual transmission. He had prepared for this trip just so he could walk us into the ground. And he did.
I love you, Dad.
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